


the anatomy of distance

by dotdae



Category: iKON (Korea Band)
Genre: Angst, Best Friends to Lovers, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-16
Updated: 2018-10-16
Packaged: 2019-08-03 02:46:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16317656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dotdae/pseuds/dotdae
Summary: There’s a problem,Jiwon decides,with falling in love too quickly with your best friend.





	the anatomy of distance

**Author's Note:**

> WRITING PRACTICE inspired by: dilemma/honeymoon/hiling/this gifset. @dotdaehanbln (twt). comments & kudos are cherished. #unbeta-ed bcs im a loser and i have no friends lol

**** There’s a problem, Jiwon decides, with falling in love too quickly with your best friend. 

Distance is relative. He’s been further from Hanbin than this. They’re separated by a barely three-stride gap between them, but really, Jiwon’s never felt more distant from Hanbin. He clings onto the hope that it was just his feeling, that they were growing apart with every passing day, but wouldn’t that unequal feeling be telling of how selfish he was?

“We were just children,” Jiwon shouts at Hanbin, who is glaring at him, a hand already on the doorknob, ready to leave. Leave  _ what _ , he’s not very sure, whether its Jiwon’s life or  _ their  _ apartment. He doesn’t really want to find out. “We were forced to grow up because of each other. This much you should understand, you should know how I feel.” 

“I wish I did.” Hanbin grits out, hand never leaving the door. He looks at Jiwon accusingly, and says with all venom in his voice, “I wasn’t forced to grow up for you, hyung. I chose to, because I love you.”

“We were  _ just children. _ ” Jiwon insists. “We didn’t know any better, we just cosplayed 19 plus roles because we felt like we needed to. We were children, Hanbin-ah, but the only reason we became adults wasn’t because we were mature enough to or had enough experience to truly feel grown up. We became adults because of each other.”    
  
“Are you saying that you felt obligated to--” 

The older’s upper body sways forward, desperation in convincing Hanbin -- and maybe, maybe, himself too -- that it was still love. “I  _ chose _ to--” 

“If you really loved me there wouldn’t be a choice. It’d be a natural thing!“ Hanbin cries, almost as if hurling the words at Jiwon. Jiwon recoils, looking as if he had gotten slapped. “This is what I don’t understand, hyung. What the fuck are you actually trying to explain? The reason why we’re not seeing eye to eye? The reason why we no longer sleep on the same bed? Or the fact that you’re not in love with me anymore?”

Hanbin rubs at his eyes, hand off the doorknob momentarily. Jiwon wants to step forward, to take Hanbin and prove him that this could be fixed, still. That they could be fixed. (That was what Jiwon didn’t understand-- that this was unable to be stitched up by physical proximity and comfort, not when his side of the bed had long gone cold.)

“Is it that hard to admit it to yourself, hyung? Then how the fuck do you expect me to take the news?” Hanbin steels himself, taking a breath. Hands by his side, a chance to take the lapse in thought to depart. Jiwon doesn’t take it. “I just want to know… Since when?” 

“What?” Jiwon’s voice comes out a croak, and he shouldn’t have allowed himself to speak. To allow himself to be presented as vulnerable when he had no right to be, not when he was tearing Hanbin apart.

Visibly swallowing, Hanbin allows himself to look into Jiwon’s eyes. His voice barely quivers, but that’s what he’s good at: pretending it hurts far less than it actually does. “Since when have I lost my spot in your heart?” 

“You’re always gonna be--” Before Jiwon even realizes it himself, his arm is reaching out, stretching forward towards Hanbin who he did not have the courage to touch. The younger doesn’t notice, shaking his head in anger at the older’s cowardice. 

Jiwon’s legs don’t move, unable to take a single step.

Ridding himself of all facades, Hanbin’s voice cracks. “Fuck the consolations, hyung. I just want a single answer.” 

“I don’t know.” Jiwon says instead, voice uncharacteristically small. He shrinks into himself, ashamed of the answer. 

He  _ was  _ still right, Hanbin and Jiwon had grown up way too fast for their own good, falling in love and rushing into things. The problem was how long it took for them to notice their pace, how punishing it had become for the both of them. They had always been blue streaks-- quick, pulsing, continuous, electric. They had always been two race cars on a highway without an end, with spectators awaiting the crash and burn. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Hanbin asks again, hand now back on the doorknob, his knuckles white from his grip. One would say it was because he wanted nothing else but to leave the apartment, but Jiwon held on to the hope that it was because of his anger, and persistence to keep himself grounded. 

“I had things to say… That I knew would hurt you. So I didn’t tell you and let them hurt me.” 

“Then why  _ now _ ? Am I no longer worth protecting?”   
  
“We’re still one and the same, Hanbin, what hurts you also hurts--” 

“Don’t you  _ dare _ compare your hurt to mine. Have  _ you  _ ever had the love of your life crush your heart in your own fucking apartment?” Jiwon keeps quiet, heart wrenching at being called the love of Hanbin’s life. The pathetic  _ You don’t know what you mean to me _ dies in Jiwon’s throat, and he swallows down its ashes. He doesn’t tread the line. Hanbin misdiagnoses it for gutlessness, and scoffs. “That’s what I fucking thought.” 

When Hanbin turns away fully, wrist twisting, Jiwon asks, “Are you leaving now? How long, this time?” 

Hanbin doesn’t answer.

“Am I really the only one to blame in this relationship, that you’re always going?” 

“Maybe you aren’t. I’m not an angel, I acknowledge that. I don’t fault your anger. Like you said, we are one and the same. Maybe I was the worst person in the world.” Jiwon can’t see Hanbin’s bitter smile, the birthing of resentment. “But I always tried my best for you.”

He goes, and the distance grows longer and-- 

  
  
  
  
  


(“Don’t worry.”

“How can I not? We’ll be  _ far  _ away from each other.” 

“I’ll always be in your heart. We've been in it together from the start!” 

“But I won’t s--” 

“I’ll work hard, for your sake.  And no longer will you ever have to cry.”) 


End file.
